


TruthShrieker

by demishock



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship, ZaDr, zadr week 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 06:10:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21405463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demishock/pseuds/demishock
Summary: Dib invests in some high-tech interrogation gear.He gets more than he bargained for.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 198





	TruthShrieker

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've ever written for this fandom despite having been fond of the show way back in the day when it first aired. The new movie threw me headlong back into nostalgia land, and here we are. As such, this fic takes place after _Enter the Florpus_ and briefly references the events of the movie.
> 
> Written for ZADR Week 2 on tumblr, for the prompt "Confession." I'm a bit late, and it's kind of a rush job, but hopefully someone'll get a kick out of it. I'm just relieved I managed to finish it at all. XD;

In hindsight, it was Dib's own fault.

He'd sought Zim out in order to test a new device he'd ordered online, and provoking the diminutive alien wasn't exactly hard. A few choice words from Dib and he was off, ranting and raving about his latest plot to destroy the world. A more cautious person might have backed off a bit in the wake of the Florpus incident, but Dib had resolved never again to simply wait and watch from the shadows.

This was a preventative measure. At least… it was supposed to be.

"--so I'll never tell you about the glorious and terrible DOOM that will befall you in phase THREE of my ingenious plan!" Zim was saying, and Dib couldn't help but scoff.

"You tell me about your plans all the time," he pointed out.

Dib's blasé reaction gave Zim pause for a moment, but he quickly recovered.

"…Maybe. But not THIS plan!"

And THAT was just the opening Dib had been waiting for. He brandished his newly acquired technology with a flourish.

"You will when I use THIS!"

Zim squinted sideways at it.

"Heh? What is this 'THIS'?"

"The TruthShrieker forum's newly patented TruthShrieker Gun!"

"Sad, squishy Dib-thing. It will do you no good. All you ever shriek are LIES!"

Dib deflated somewhat, frowning.

"No, I don't. And anyway, it's not for me, it's for you."

Zim waved his hand dismissively.

"I have no need for this Shrieker of Truth. Zim always tells the truth. In a very calm and measured manner. YOU SEE?!"

"No, you don't!" Dib snapped, waving the device once more in the alien's direction. "But that all changes today, now that I've got this truth ray! When I use it on you, you'll tell me everything I want to know, whether you want to or not! And then, since nobody ever listens to me for some stupid reason, you're going to tell everyone yourself, once and for all, that you're an evil alien from another evil planet here to do all sorts of EVIL THINGS!"

And, not waiting for Zim's inevitable rebuttal, he pulled the trigger.

A single, red laser pointer dot flashed for a moment on Zim's forehead before blinking out of existence.

They both stood in awkward silence for a moment.

Then, Zim pointed at him, his teeth bared in a feral grin.

"HA!" he crowed. "As expected, your pitiful Earth-ray has failed. Victory for ZIM!"

Dib tried not to sulk as he turned the truth ray this way and that, trying to see if any parts were loose or missing. It had required some assembly out of the box, after all. He'd even triple checked the batteries...

Zim continued gloating loudly, making it hard for Dib to concentrate.

"Can't you rub this in my face at a lower volume?" he complained, continuing to prod ineffectually at the TruthShrieker.

"I can," Zim drawled, "but then it would be hard for me to hear. If anything, YOU need to speak UP."

There was an odd pause, odd enough that Dib looked up from what he was doing. Zim looked... confused.

"Why are you making that face?"

"Because I did not mean to say that out loud."

Zim's eyes widened.

"I didn't mean to say THAT out loud, either! Or this! Or this! Or THIS! Or _THIS!_ Or--!"

"Okay, I get it!"

But Zim looked less confused now, and decidedly more panicked.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ZIM?!"

"Huh?"

Zim clamped his mouth firmly shut, glaring at Dib for all he was worth.

Dib felt the hair at the nape of his neck prickle as an idea occurred to him.

"Zim," he asked, as casually as he could manage. "Are you really a normal, human child?"

Zim's face twisted like he'd eaten something from the skool cafeteria as he struggled to keep his mouth shut...

...and failed.

"OF COURSE ZIM IS NOT A PUTRID HUMAN PIG-CHILD! I AM AN IRKEN--"

He wheezed, as though he was struggling to say something other than what actually emerged:

"--food... service... drone."

The words dragged out of him with obvious reluctance, and he looked both startled and disgusted at having said them.

Dib, for his part, stared at him in shock. Food service drone? Zim?

He looked down at the device in his hands, then at Zim, then back and forth again.

Had the TruthShrieker actually… worked?

Zim met his gaze with a look of pure loathing… and a tiny flicker of fear.

For a moment, a small, small part of him had the thought that maybe this wasn't a good idea. That maybe forcing someone to be brutally honest against their will was cruel. That maybe he was about to find out some things he didn't want to know.

Dib squashed that part of him like a bug.

"So, you're _not_ an Invader?" he asked, just to be sure.

Zim cycled through another series of facial contortions, then,

"_No,_" Zim spat, sounding winded from the effort of trying to hold even that one word back.

"So you're _not_ trying to take over or destroy the Earth?"

"I AM trying!" Zim protested, his voice just short of a whine.

"But if you're not an Invader - if you're actually a _food service drone_ \- then why…?"

"Because I _want_ to be an Invader! I was _supposed_ to be an Invader! I _WAS_ an Invader!"

His voice rose in volume with each word, desperation clear in his tone. Dib could hardly believe what he was hearing.

"How come you're not anymore?"

Zim clapped both hands over his mouth, muffling whatever answer he was giving. Despite the mounting horror apparent on his face, his contact-covered eyes flashed briefly with triumph as he succeeded at impeding Dib's questioning.

Dib wasn't going to be deterred that easily.

In an instant, he had his briefcase open, trading the ray gun for the familiar weight of his trusty alien sleep cuffs.

Zim's eyes resumed their look of terror.

He turned and ran.

Dib chased after him without hesitation, his feet pounding against the pavement with new determination.

This was it. 

This time, things were going to go his way.

This time, there'd be no shmoopy distractions, no fake collaborations, no ruined keynotes, no space prisons, no _non-believers_.

This time, Dib was going to slap these cuffs on Zim, and there was nothing in the universe that was going to convince him to take them off.

This time, Zim was going to confess his own alien-scummy-ness to the whole world, and Dib would finally, _finally_ win.

With all these years of practice, Dib had gotten a lot better at running, and he managed to tail Zim steadily all the way to his base. 

"Predictable!" he called out as he skidded around the corner, dodging the gnome sentries as he raced up the sidewalk and barreled through the front door, right on Zim's heels. The roboparents scattered to either side of the door to avoid a collision, disappearing into their cubbies without offering Zim any help at all. GIR's eyes remained glued to the TV - literally; Dib could smell the paste from the doorway.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Zim shouted, rounding on him in fury and removing his disguise in one fluid motion. Vicious red eyes narrowed at him in warning.

Dib brandished his sleep cuffs, sizing up the situation. There was nowhere left to run.

"Not this time, Zim! This time, you're mine!"

He lunged forward, cuffs at the ready.

"_Zim is always yours!_" Zim shrieked, and both Dib and the world came to a screeching halt.

The ensuing silence was broken only by the inane chatter emanating from the TV and the dull thud of the sleep cuffs dropping to the floor.

He…?

Zim…?

He was…?

"…What?"

Zim was breathing hard, shoulders heaving even as he clenched both fists at his sides. His antennae flattened against his head in a way that made Dib's stomach lurch.

"Get. Out. Of. My. House."

Dib's brain felt like it was full of static, his ears ringing obnoxiously as he tried to parse this new and bewildering piece of information.

"What do you mean, you're always mi--"

"GET _OUT!_"

And for once, Dib did as he was told, walking backwards until the doorknob jabbed him in the spine. He fumbled for it and staggered outside before the door slammed unceremoniously in his face.

He sat down on Zim's front steps in a stupor. The gnomes, by some miracle, left him be.

For a brief, miserable second, Dib felt the same disbelief toward himself that everyone else seemed to.

Had that… really just happened?

Was that some kind of… confession?

He shook his head. Of course it was real. He couldn't afford to think like that.

But if it was real, then…

Mind reeling, Dib considered his options.

He could go home, climb into bed, and pretend this day had never happened.

He could research ways to erase his and Zim's memories.

He could get in Tak's ship and fly directly into the sun.

He could… try to talk to Zim.

Dib rose to his feet and took a deep breath, his knuckles paused just shy of the door. He wondered how long the TruthShrieker might take to wear off. He didn't recall anything in the instruction manual about a timeline.

That left only one option, as far as he could figure.

He pounded on the door.

"Zim?" he asked. "Don't you think we should talk about this?"

"…Yeah…" came the unfiltered reply, followed by a series of grunts and growls and muffled, angry noises.

Dib tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. He let himself back into the house to find Zim huddled on the couch. There was no cheesy cocoon of misery this time, but the effect was similar.

"Welcome back!" GIR enthused from where he was still stuck to the television screen. "We missed yoooou~!"

Dib barely acknowledged the greeting, moving instead to stand at the other end of the couch. Zim visibly tensed at his approach, but otherwise didn't move. That was, until Dib opened his briefcase back up and retrieved the TruthShrieker. Zim skittered up onto the arm of the couch, crouched and ready to bolt.

But instead of pointing the gun at Zim, Dib pointed it at himself.

Zim's eyes widened.

"To make it fair," Dib explained, and pulled the trigger for the second time that day.

As it turned out, they had a lot of truth left to shriek.


End file.
